


Dancing centimetres from you

by thequadraticformula



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Dancing, F/F, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:01:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22570645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequadraticformula/pseuds/thequadraticformula
Summary: Momo's life is dancing.Dancing and a series of distances between her and Dahyun.
Relationships: Hirai Momo/Kim Dahyun
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Dancing centimetres from you

**Author's Note:**

> This work is crossposted on Wattpad and Asianfanfics under the user 'thequadraticformula'.  
> DO NOT REPOST THIS WORK.

Life was the movement of my body to the ebb and flow of the music. The pump of the bass in my chest, replacing the beating of my heart. The floor beneath my feet that turned to liquid, molding around my feet, bending under the pressure. The pain after practice, the pleasant burn all over telling me that I did a good job.

My life was dancing. Until my eyes wandered over to you.

I don't remember the exact moment when my attention was no longer focused on the movements and positions of my body or the feelings the music gave me. It must have been a gradual transition as I got to know you better.

Life became a measure of the distance between our bodies. The bass in my chest was replaced by the thud of your feet against the floor as you moved. My feet no longer sank into the floor, rather, they found themselves moving on their own accord, trying to inch closer and closer. The pain wasn't the pleasant burn anymore, but a hard tug inside my stomach as I watched you turn and leave the practice room, the space in between us only becoming larger and larger.

Life became a test. A test to see how long I could survive without knowing if you had gotten home safe. A trial to measure how far I would follow you out the door, my hands gripping the straps of my backpack as I struggled to open my mouth and introduce myself. An experiment to observe how many mistakes I had to make in the choreography before you would look my way.

Dancing wasn't about the feeling and the movement or the fun. Dancing was about finding ways across the room to where you stood. Finding moments in the choreography where I could move my hand a little too close to your shoulder or hip. Letting my eyes admire the fluidity of your movements and the passion in every tilt of your head to the sway of your hands across the plains of your body.

There are centimetres between us, yet I can never seem to look you directly in your eyes. Always slightly to the left or the right. At the corners of your lips. At the tips of your ears. At the bridge of your nose.

You notice but continue to dance.

There are centimetres between us and all I can feel is the heat from your body. The warmth that manages to close the gap between us that I never could. So dangerously close and desperately far at the same time. One small movement from either of us... and I'm not sure I will be able to dance any longer.

You notice but continue to dance.

But doesn't it bother you? That we can stand, simply centimetres apart and feel like we're kilometres away. Feeling the breathing of the other on our faces but knowing that neither of us will take one step.

"Look at me." You whisper. 

Our noses are centimetres apart.

Your eyes are beautiful. Chocolate. Smooth. Delicate.

Centimetres....

Millimetres...

Until we close the gap.


End file.
